


Cold December Nights

by Helasdottir



Series: The Three Fates [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Broken Families, Christmas Eve, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 are Twins, Gen, Holidays, Parent Amanda (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21957466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helasdottir/pseuds/Helasdottir
Summary: It is almost midnight when Niles steps out of the old and creaky elevator he has grown so used to. Three of the four apartment doors on this floor bear different Christmas decorations. The one plain one is his door – not quite so festive, not this year.This story is a prequel to Pretty Tied Up.
Series: The Three Fates [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1325063
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	Cold December Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place a decade before the events of Pretty Tied Up, when Connor and Niles have their bittersweet first Christmas in their new lives.

It is almost midnight when Niles steps out of the old and creaky elevator he has grown so used to. Three of the four apartment doors on this floor bear different Christmas decorations. The one plain one is his door – not quite so festive, not this year. He sighs and cleans his boots on the mat, wiping snow from the shoulders of his coat before twisting the key to open the door, bracing himself for what he may find inside.

The constant reminders of joy and peace tear at him, bringing to mind a constant loop of the event that turned their lives upside-down. Niles does not expect his brother’s usual holiday cheer will make an appearance only months after being disowned, cast out under the shadow of Amanda's cold rage. He has hardly seen Connor at all since both of them took on multiple jobs to cover university and living costs, and a retail holiday is bound to break Connor’s spirit that slightest bit more.

Niles finds the living room as he left it fifteen hours before: dark, cold, with the occasional piece of ceiling paint falling on his head. He brushes it out of his hair and walks past the lit kitchen and into the bedroom, setting his bag down on top of Connor’s things and beginning to search their chaotic shared wardrobe for clothes that will beat away the deadly chill.

It does not feel like Christmas. Niles’s heart constricts when he finds his favorite sweater, a delicate and comfortable dark cashmere piece Amanda bought for his eighteenth birthday. In its own way, it still smells like _home_ , and he hates himself for thinking as much.

A sudden, uncontrollable flash of anger makes him think of shredding it, of destroying any connection with the prison they came from. It is warm, though, and comfortable, and Niles finds himself too heartbroken and homesick to resist the pull. _Just today_ , he tells himself, pulling it on over his shirt.

He hears Connor in the kitchen, distant and distorted by the weight of Niles’s own thoughts. It is tempting to ignore the sounds entirely and slip into bed, to sleep through the warm and happy memories that wrap around his heart like thorns. Niles will never be able to verbalize the amount of strength needed to push away his desires and take those few short steps through the apartment.

To his surprise, the kitchen is decorated. On the counter, there is a small artificial tree with paper ornaments on it, and every corner of the kitchen is now illuminated by cheap monochromatic lights. There are also candles, the simple white ones used during power outages, set out around Connor’s improvised feast: two chicken legs, two baked potatoes and a small bowl of bread stuffing.

“Con?” Niles asks, because his brother does not stop moving – he has something on the fire, and the oven is on. The sink is piled high with dishes, only half-hidden in the dim setting, and Niles tries not to focus on the disorder or the cost of this meal.

“Oh. I didn’t notice you come in,” Connor replies, sounding nervous and slightly out of breath has he leans down to look into the oven one more time. “Trying not to burn the cake. I couldn’t use mom’s recipe so I’m not sure what I’m doing.”

Niles can only nod his head, overwhelmed by the flood of emotional input currently striking him. He knows Connor has a harder time distancing himself from Amanda and abandoning his previous life, and now – for this moment – Niles understands it. He can clearly remember being a child, helping her with Christmas lunch early on the twenty-fifth, singing praises as they set the table. He and Connor used to fight to be the one saying grace, and Niles usually won.

Of course, that had been before he grew old enough to realize the dysfunction in their household, to rebel against Amanda and try to find himself in the rubble of their childhood. Connor was the golden boy of their teenage years, sincerely praying over a meal as Niles drummed his fingers on the table and waited for the chance to sneak away for a cigarette.

“Why-“ Niles starts, then cuts off when Connor turns to look at him with those tired, hopeful brown eyes. He decides to rephrase his question, taking up a dishcloth and stepping forward to check on the cake himself. “How did you do all this? I thought you worked today.”

“I did. They wanted to throw out these lights because the wire was broken, but Josh helped me fix it.” Connor moves out of the way, nervously rearranging the candles as Niles moves the cake out and onto a board to cool. “Markus invited us over tonight, but I – I figured it would be worse.”

Markus’s holiday parties are far more intimate and contained than his usual celebrations, but Niles understands what Connor means. Being present at someone else’s peaceful family gathering would simply rub salt into their wounds, and with Leo freshly home from his latest rehabilitation clinic, Niles would rather not impose.

“It would. You did not need to do this.” Niles gestures vaguely, all too aware of the sadness behind his brother’s smile.

“I think,” Connor starts, pulling a chair to sit. He seems expectant, so Niles does the same across from him and tries not to think about the devouring loneliness surrounding them. “I think we shouldn’t let what happened take everything away. Christmas is about celebrating family and being thankful for our blessings, no matter what those are.”

There’s a pause in which both of them are blinking back tears, Connor’s voice straining into silence as he searches for the words to continue. Niles grips onto the tablecloth above his thigh and waits, the lump in his throat only growing.

“This year.” Connor’s voice is now barely above a whisper, but he clears his throat to rectify it. Niles gives him a small nod of encouragement, far too emotional to speak without being reduced to a mess. “This year wasn’t easy, Ni. I know it’s not easy for you, and I don’t know what I would have done without you. Is it a bad thing that I want to celebrate what we have left?”

There’s a distinct waver in the question, one that finally breaks the dam for Niles. Tears fall silently down his cheeks as he shakes his head, reaching across the table to hold Connor’s hand and give it a firm, reassuring squeeze.

“No. It’s not a bad thing at all.”

Perhaps the holidays will always be a painful reminder of what they lost and what they never had. Niles admires Connor’s strength in taking this step so soon, attempting to make this time of year their own without allowing Amanda’s grip to strangle more of their joy.

Across the table, Connor’s eyes reflect the same tears. For the first time, they are alone in the world – but they are alone together, and that might be all the foundation they need to build a new future.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter @xhelasdottir.


End file.
